


A is for Alpha Site

by sg_wonderland



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_wonderland/pseuds/sg_wonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The SGC’s inability to create an outgoing wormhole results in SG1 spending a week visiting the folks at the Alpha Site.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A is for Alpha Site

A is for Alpha Site

 

Colonel David Spencer allowed himself two minutes of self-pity as he strode toward the mess for the evening meal. Life on Alpha usually chugged along quietly, like the well-oiled machine upon which the military insisted. However, this morning a wormhole malfunction threw a monkey wrench squarely in the midst of that machine, leaving it squeaky and laboring toward an uncertain future. Well, technically, that would be four monkey wrenches.  
He took a deep breath before entering the mess hall and facing his biggest problem head on. SG-1 was seated at his designated table and as far as he could calculate, would be his honored guests for at least a week.   
“Colonel O’Neill, Major Carter, Dr. Jackson, Teal’c,” he greeted his guests. “Sorry I’m late.”  
O’Neill waved his hand languidly. “That’s okay; we’ve already been greeted by both the waiter and the sommelier.” Dr. Jackson choked. “Something funny, Daniel?”  
“There’s no such thing as a beer sommelier, Jack.” Spencer thought he detected a noticeable twitch to Dr. Jackson’s lips. He knew that SG-1 was the most unusually manned team at the SGC but he was surprised at the casual attitude Jackson had toward his commanding officer. He had to keep reminding himself that Jackson wasn’t military.  
O’Neill rose. “I’d just as soon we get in line. We don’t expect special treatment, Colonel Spencer. We’re just another team as long as we’re here.”  
“Just keep telling yourself that, Jack.” Spencer snorted as he followed them through the line. He wasn’t going to share with O’Neill the SG-1 gossip that was already running rampant across the base. He doubted that Major Carter could blow the whole base up with the contents of her pack; that Dr. Jackson was likely to either fall dead at any moment or get snatched by aliens; that Teal’c could lift a Jeep with one hand. And Spencer knew enough about O’Neill to know that most of the truth about his service would never be known.  
Spencer just hoped his staff got past the hero worship phase quickly. The gate techs had flocked to help Major Carter analyze the data from the SGC and his aide hadn’t been able to articulate multi-syllable words as she handed SG-1 their visitor passes although he couldn’t fault her for the rooms she had assigned them. The barracks at C1 were the best visitor accommodations available, with several semi-private sleeping rooms and a designated officer’s quarters.  
“So, David, is there anything specific we can do for you while we’re here? I can tell you that Teal’c and I are gonna be completely useless in fixing the SGC’s problems. Daniel might be able to fetch coffee or something.”  
Spencer took his time perusing the night’s offering as a cover for the thoughts churning through his mind. “Let me think about that, Jack, and I’ll get back to you. I’m sure we can think of something to occupy your time.”  
“I can tell you, Colonel Spencer, that Jack’s already scoped out your water source to determine if there are, in fact, any fish in that river.” Jackson pointed to the fajitas.  
“Uh, Dr. Jackson, just so you know, the cook goes pretty heavy on the spices.” Spencer pointed out.  
“Daniel has asbestos intestines, so he can probably handle it. Now, me, I think that baked chicken and stuffing looks pretty good.”  
“The dish does appear most appetizing, O’Neill.” Spencer believed it was the first words he’d heard Teal’c speak. Major Carter and Jackson were quietly bickering about something as they selected desserts and drinks.  
“Give it a rest, Carter.” O’Neill trailed them back to the table. “When have I ever treated you like ‘the girl’?” He took the seat beside Jackson. “Carter’s got her knickers in a twist because I assigned her the officers’ quarters. And it has nothing to do with her sex; it has everything to do with her tapping on that laptop the whole damned night and keeping me awake. That way, Daniel can sneak in and argue with her and Teal’c and I can finally get a full night’s sleep. Five days in a real bed without the two of them yammering at me all the time? I’m treating this as a vacation.”  
“I’ll yammer at you every night before bedtime.” Jackson promised.  
“Indeed you will not, Daniel Jackson, as my sleeping accommodation is adjacent to that of Colonel O’Neill.”  
Both Carter and Jackson grinned unrepentantly. 

*  
Spencer made a point of getting to the mess extra early the next morning; therefore, he was more than a little disconcerted to find SG-1 already seated and plowing through breakfast.  
“It doesn’t make sense for the wormhole to ‘know’ the difference in outgoing or incoming.” Carter waved a fork at Jackson.  
“How many times have I heard you say ‘something-something-intuitive’?” Jackson rose to refill his coffee. Then, with a shrug, he just brought a carafe to the table.  
“The wormhole isn’t capable of intuitive, independent thinking.” She countered at his return.  
“So it’s like Jack?”  
“Hey,” Jack frowned. “I was just minding my business here, eating my eggs. I didn’t ask to be insulted. By the way, Spencer, these eggs are really good.”  
“That’s because they’re fresh eggs.”  
“What?” O’Neill pushed the eggs around his plate.  
“We’ve got an agricultural co-op going here. We raise chickens, cows, and pigs.”  
“Are you growing crops?” Jackson asked excitedly.  
“We are, Dr. Jackson. Would you like to take a look at the operations?” Please say yes, Spencer was thinking.  
“I’d love it.”  
“Me, too.” Carter flushed. “I mean, I’d love it if Daniel went out to look at the corn and beans, sirs.”  
“And left you the hell alone?” O’Neill drawled.  
“I would never say that, sir.” Carter replied primly.  
“No, because I said it for you. Okay, Daniel, you get to tour the farm. Carter, back to the wormhole problem. Teal’c…”  
“I will accompany Daniel Jackson on this farm tour.”  
“Okay, keep in touch, kids. Spencer, why don’t you brief me on your security procedure? And you can let me know if you need anything.”

*  
Spencer glanced behind him as Jackson and Teal’c followed Dr. Martinez toward the farm. “So, is there a reason Teal’c decided to go with Dr. Jackson?”  
O’Neill shot him a quick glance. “No offense intended but until Teal’c has assured himself of your base security, he’s liable to bird-dog both Daniel and Carter.”  
“So that’s why one of the guards reported they observed him walking a perimeter several times last night?”  
“Just get used to it, I have.” O’Neill shrugged. “Teal’c’s got some kind of a Jaffa life bond thing going…don’t ask. So what’s your procedure for incoming wormholes?”  
Spencer led him into the control room. “We don’t expect regular incoming like the SGC so….”

*  
Spencer, O’Neill and Carter had already selected their dinners and were eating when Daniel and Teal’c finally made it. “You kids missed curfew again; your mother and I were worried.”  
“Jack, they have the most amazing growing season here! They can get three full crops in a calendar year.” Jackson was slightly flushed under his boonie.  
“Daniel, what have I told you about sunscreen?” O’Neill used his fork to tap the end of Jackson’s nose.  
“I should have warned you about the sun,” Spencer apologized.  
“Medical after dinner, Daniel.”  
“Oh, but, Jack, Dr. Peyton was going to show me how they graft fruit trees.”  
“Teal’c?”  
“I will escort Daniel Jackson to seek the proper medical care. Let us obtain a meal, Daniel Jackson.”  
“Dr. Peyton and her trees will still be there tomorrow, Daniel.”

*  
Spencer and O’Neill weren’t running when they entered the infirmary but both men were definitely moving fast.  
Teal’c greeted them at the door. “Daniel Jackson was uninjured, Colonel O’Neill. Dr. Peyton suffered a serious cut while demonstrating a procedure. We immediately transported her to this facility and the medical staff is assessing her condition.”   
“Jack.” Daniel pushed through the doors; O’Neill drew a sharp breath at the splashes of red splattering the khaki T-shirt. “Not my blood, Jack. Connie was showing me how they graft and they use really, really sharp knives and maybe I was talking too much and her hand slipped….”  
Jack rested his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “She’s in good hands, Daniel. Sounds like you and Teal’c did everything right.”  
“They did, Colonel O’Neill.” A scrub-clad woman had followed Daniel into the room. “She’s got eighteen stitches in her hand, Colonel Spencer, and she’ll be on medical leave for a week or so but she’s damned lucky. If she’d been alone, she likely would have bled out before anyone found her. Dr. Jackson held pressure on the wound while Teal’c carried Dr. Peyton to the Jeep and then drove her right here.” She smiled at the two men. “And they both need to get cleaned up and maybe have some quiet time. I know that had to have been very traumatic.”  
“On the contrary, Dr. Men, Daniel Jackson and I encounter many unexpected situations off-world; emergency medical aid is not unknown to any member of an SG team. However, I would welcome a shower and clean clothing. Daniel Jackson expressed a desire for a cup of coffee several hours ago. We should seek to fulfill that desire in all due haste.”  
“Okay, shower, change of clothes, coffee. In that order.” O’Neill steered Jackson toward the exit.  
“I’ll catch you over at the commissary,” Spencer said. “I want to check on Dr. Peyton first, and then I’ll be right over.”  
“I wasn’t exaggerating, Colonel.” Dr. Men beckoned Spencer to follow her. “That injury could have easily been fatal.”  
“Do we need to revisit medical procedures for the farm?”  
“It wouldn’t hurt, Colonel Spencer.”  
“Write up a proposal, Dr. Men. And I’ll talk to General Hammond; maybe we can get Dr. Fraiser out here for a few days and have her give us an assessment of what we can do better.”  
“Thank you, sir. Dr. Peyton is right through here.”

*  
There were cheers on both sides of the wormhole when a MALP lumbered through, carrying a cage of live mice. Carter turned toward O’Neill. “That looks like a successful outgoing wormhole, sir. All subjects arrived alive and unharmed.”  
“Alright! With your permission, General Hammond, SG-1 will arrive in approximately one hour.”  
“We’ll be expecting you. Good work, Alpha Site and Major Carter. SGC out.”

*  
In the two weeks since SG1 had departed, Colonel Spencer had gotten a request for changes in medical procedure, a proposal to have Major Carter posted temporarily to Alpha for teaching purposes, three not-so-off-hand inquiries about how to apply for a position on a gate team and two people who had wondered about the possibility of stocking the lake with fish, indigenous to Earth and edible.  
He realized that SG1, whether intentional or not, had left their mark on Alpha.


End file.
